


The Halloween Business

by JoeyAndromeda



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoeyAndromeda/pseuds/JoeyAndromeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean works in a haunted house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Halloween Business

Dean crouches uncomfortably in his little alcove, shifting his weight off his aching left knee. Twenty more minutes, maybe half an hour, and he can get the hell out of here.

First, though, he's got work to do.

The sound of approaching footsteps grows nearer, and with it comes voices. "Calm down, Cas, it's just a bunch of guys in makeup."

The second voice replies almost inaudibly, though Dean can hear it trembling. He grins to himself. He hopes this one's a screamer.

When the pair--one tall, one short--is about six feet away from the alcove, Dean leaps out, brandishing his hollow plastic chainsaw. The two victims have triggered a motion detector that causes the grinding roar of a chainsaw to emanate from a hidden speaker. The short one just laughs; the other emits a thin, high-pitched wail and collapses.

"Cas? _Cas_? Fuck." The short guy kneels down and places a hand on his companion's shoulder. "You okay, bro? C'mon, look at me."

The other man just curls himself into a ball and rocks back and forth, keening softly. Dean watches with his lower lip caught between his teeth. Finally he thinks _To hell with it_ and joins the two men on the floor.

"Hey." He tentatively reaches out and touches Cas's arm. "It's all right, man. Nobody's gonna hurt you." He nudges Cas with his chainsaw. "See? Just plastic."

Cas just whimpers. The other guy asks, "Is there any way we can get out of here ahead of schedule? I don't think he's gonna make it to the end." 

"Yeah, right over here--" Dean gets up and moves to a spot some nine feet away, drawing aside a near-invisible black curtain to reveal a space in the wall. "Go straight down there, turn left, and there's an emergency exit."

"Thanks." He turns back to Cas. "Time to get up now, buddy. Come on. Let's go home."

Cas hesitantly unfurls himself. The sight of his face, even in this dim light, makes Dean's mouth go dry. "Um," he says in a low, gravelly voice. "Th-thank you."

Dean swallows. "No problem." Good Christ, he's cute.

The two shuffle off down the corridor, leaving Dean to stare blankly at the place where they'd been standing before mentally slapping himself and going back to the alcove.

\---

A few minutes later, Benny leaves his post in the dining room to drop in on Dean. "Bossman wants to talk to you after we get off."

Dean groans. "Of course he does."

"For what it's worth, brother, I think you did a good thing."

"Thanks, man."

Finally, mercifully, his shift ends. He heads for the outbuilding to take off his makeup; damned if he's going to face Alastair with all this crap still stuck to him.

While he's pulling off the fake gash on his neck, wincing--liquid latex is a bitch--Meg sashays past him in her tattered white dress. "You're in troooooouuuu-blllllle," she singsongs.

"Shut it," Dean grunts. _So_ not in the mood.

"Heard you got all weepy over a vic."

Dean stays quiet, the better to make her shut up quicker.

"Please tell me he was at least cute."

"Get lost," Dean growls.

"So he _is_! Maybe I'll go see if he's still hanging around the parking lot. Too bad you can't go just yet."

Dean groans and lets his forehead thunk against the mirror.

\---

"You know the rules, Dean."

"Yes, sir."

"You don't break character. Ever. For any reason."

"I know, sir."

"Do you? 'Cause it sure didn't look like it tonight."

Dean should bite his tongue, he knows, but the connection between his mouth and brain is tenuous at best. "The guy was having a freakin' panic attack. What was I supposed to do, keep waving the chainsaw at him?"

"He knew what he was getting into when he bought a ticket. Presumably he read the sign"--this being the sign outside, warning people with heart conditions, seizure disorders, pregnancies, and suchlike against entering. "It's not my problem, or yours."

Dean is rapidly losing patience. "So am I fired or what?"

Alastair pretends to consider it for a moment. Fucking drama queen. "Not just yet. Any more screw-ups like that, though...well, we'll see."

"Okay then. Can I go now?"

Alastair dismisses him with a wave of the hand. Dean heads out to the parking lot.

There, to his surprise, he finds Cas and the other guy leaning against a maroon Honda Civic. Cas is--oh, fuck. He's crying.

Dean approaches slowly, unsure of whether to speak. "Hey," Other Guy is saying, "at least you didn't pee yourself."

"Gabriel. Not helping."

"Sorry. Just--look on the bright side, is all I'm saying."

"I fail to see any bright side to this situation."

"Cas, for god's sake, it's not the end of the world. You're never gonna see that guy again in your life."

"Um," Dean interjects. "Hi."

Cas lifts his tear-streaked face from his hands and fixes him with a deer-in-headlights stare before whipping his head around to glare at Gabriel, who snickers. "Nice timing."

"Yeah, sorry, I just--um, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Cas wipes at his face, refusing to meet Dean's eyes. "I'm fine. Humiliated, but fine."

"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. I've been working at the house for three weeks--trust me, I've seen way worse freakouts than that."

Cas regards him skeptically. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Seen seven-foot-tall bodybuilders cry like little girls."

Cas laughs a little through his tears. Dean notes that he's got a really pretty smile. Maybe that's what causes his mouth to operate without clearance from mission control yet again. "Hey, listen--I feel really bad about what happened, and...I'd like to make it up to you somehow. I was thinking dinner, Monday night, sevenish? It'd have to be a weeknight; I work here on weekends. Of course, if you have to work in the morning or whatever, I totally understand, I just--" Dean realizes he's babbling. "Thought I'd ask," he finishes.

"Um." Cas blinks, adorably dumbfounded. "O-okay."

Dean pulls a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and reaches for Cas's hand. Cas flinches a little, but allows Dean to write his number on his skin. "Call me," Dean says. "We'll work out the details."

"Is it--is it okay if I text? I'm...not good with phones."

"That's fine." Dean replaces the pen and, on impulse, gives Cas's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "See you."

"Bye," Cas replies, still looking slightly off-balance. Dean can't help swaggering a little as he walks away.


End file.
